A Swan Amongst The Ducklings

“Something troubling you, love?” Fancy asked her over the dinner table.

Fleur shook herself, turning to Fancy with a slightly guilty look. “Forgive me, mon cœur. I was drifting.”

“You know, eventually I will take offense if you don’t tell me what’s been bothering you,” Fancy replied, frowning. The twinkle in his eye told her it was at least half in jest.

She sighed very quietly. She hated hiding things from him, but she hadn’t known how to explain what was wrong at all. It had just been the one dream, and none since, but that one had stuck so clearly in her mind.

But it was just a dream. Her grand-père had once told her a dream was “a wish made by your heart”, and while that sounded wonderful, the reality was that the poor little princess was in the real world, and here, it was much harder to explain a stolen kiss to one of the two ponies whose word was law. She felt very lucky she hadn’t been punished for her brashness; expecting the solace of being able to apologize for such a thing was unthinkably rash, assuming she could get into the castle to see the princess at all.

Even so, she was considering it. Unfortunately, Luna was royalty, and that meant guards, and making appointments. ‘Explaining the purpose of the visit’ would be difficult at best, for the easiest answer was that she needed to speak in private to the princess, and assuming she wasn’t dismissed by the pencil pushers who made such appointments, she had no guarantee that Luna herself would approve of it. And... being rejected without even having a chance to see her in person again would have been heartrending.

So, the normal channels were problematic at best, and while she was well-known as a thief of hearts, she was no sneak-thief who could infiltrate a palace to see the Princess outside of normal channels. Seeing her in an event was likewise an issue, as approaching her without being asked would immediately draw attention.

She was also uncertain how the Princess would react if extended an invitation to a party of Fancy’s, but of her limited options, that was the least likely to result in her being carried away by the Royal Guard to spend an uncomfortable night in a small cell.

“Fancy, what would you say if I wanted to send a messenger to Princess Luna?” she asked, trying to sound perfectly casual about it.

“I don’t know. How likely are you to say such a thing?” he replied, gazing off into the distance where some model was chatting up Lord Worthingham. Fleur didn’t think much of the model’s odds — Worthingham liked them plumper.

“I’m being serious, Fancy.”

He turned to her with a raised eyebrow. “Really? Is this possibly what’s been weighing on your mind of late?”

“And what if it is?” Fleur snapped back irritably.

His normally passive expression broke into a slow smile. “I meant no harm, love. You’re just not usually one to pine when you’ve been turned down.”

“She never said ‘no’, Fancy,” Fleur retorted, not even addressing the ‘pining’ accusation. “She was surprised, understandably so. I would like a chance to properly apologize.”

“Oh? Not planning to try again?”

Favoring him with a deadpan stare, Fleur snatched a glass of wine from the tray and immediately drained it. “I’ve already embarrassed her once. I have no plans to further shame myself and actively enrage her. If I can salvage the friendship, and have that incident be an amusing story for us to reminisce over, I will count myself lucky.”

“I was only teasing a little, love. It’s a fine idea.”

Fleur let out a sigh of relief. “Sorry. I just find her impossible to get out of my head for very long of late. I even had a dream about her, and she apologized to me. Can you imagine anything more ridiculous?”

“Several things, actually. Most involving clowns.”

Fleur rolled her eyes, giving him a little grin she didn’t actually feel. “I said I was being serious, Fancy. I truly don’t like just leaving things as we did. I made a mistake, but perhaps I can make it right. I think that was what my dream was trying to tell me. That... perhaps she is as lost about what happened as I am.”

He turned away from the ever-shifting spectacle that was his ‘friends’ to face her. “You are serious, aren’t you?”

“Yes!” she hissed at him, beginning to get very annoyed.

He just looked at her for a time, as if studying her. After a time, his eyes widened in surprise. “I thought this was just about feeling a little put-out that you couldn’t tempt her. Was I wrong? Is she different than the others?”

“She—” Fleur bit back the automatic retort, unwilling to let the words ‘she isn’t’ pass through her lips. She dropped her gaze, unable to meet Fancy’s penetrating look. “She’s interesting,” she finished, despite feeling the wrongness of that as well. The little princess was more than that. She was fascinating. So much so that Fleur would be genuinely happy just to befriend her once more. But she didn’t know how to explain that without sounding like an enamoured filly. Even if, in her heart of hearts, she supposed she was, just a little.

She felt a hoof covering the top of her own, and lifted her eyes to meet Fancy’s once more.

“We’ll send her a polite request for a visit. How does that sound?”

Her lip quivered slightly, and she nodded almost imperceptibly.

“All right, it’s settled, then,” he patted her hoof gently after lifting his from it. “How about we clear out the rabble and call it an early night, eh?”

For two days she waited. Two days of nervousness, and fear. She told herself she would not be imprisoned for inviting a princess to tea, that there was likely an entirely good reason for the wait. The princess was likely busy, after all. Perhaps the missive had been delivered to the wrong one? While having Princess Celestia for tea would have been a pleasant surprise, she would rather it be Luna, for entirely selfish reasons.

As the moon rose and the sun set, she had her answer by a very interesting means.

It was a free day for Fleur and Fancy, with no parties to throw nor attend. On such a day they might have gone to the theater, or a carriage ride, perhaps to the races. Instead, they were staying home. Fancy was reading, and Fleur was soaking, and sulking.

She found these were good things to do at the same time. The hot water bled some of the tension from her body while her nerves added yet more. Eventually, the water would cool, and she would have to find something more productive to do with her time, but Fancy had a very nice bathing tub, and a sizable water heater. As such, soaking could continue for some time, and sulking could continue as well.

She lay her head down on the cool stone surface of the tub’s edge, exhaling softly. She felt wretched. Fancy had the right of it; she was brooding. But she could not help it. Being neither forgiven nor rejected, she could not put the little princess out of mind. It was horrible, and yet she could not simply let it be.

In the vast expanse that was their bathroom, a loud pop resounded throughout the chamber, followed by the acrid smell of smoke, and... something landing on the tip of her nose. She stared at it for a moment, willing her heartbeat to become calmer, which it did after several moments of nothing further happening beyond the unidentified object falling off of her nose and onto the floor.

The object, now that it was not directly in her field of vision, appeared to be a scroll, sealed with wax, and stamped with the symbol of a crescent moon.

She stared at it for a moment, not certain what to make of it. The symbol made it obvious who it was from, but the method of delivery was... quite startling. She’d expected a return messenger, assuming the princess hadn’t sent a squad to arrest her. If she hadn't been hanging over the edge of the tub the scroll might have landed directly in the water.

She did have to admit, however, that it was interesting.

She carefully dried a hoof off with a nearby towel, and when she judged it was sufficiently dry, she reached out and poked at the scroll.

It did not bite her, or explode.

Further examination revealed little, and after a few moments, she decided to open it.

The script was flowery, almost to the point of illegibility, but she did manage to make out enough to discern that her efforts were not going to be rewarded with an extended stay in the fabled catacombs under the city, nor was Luna planning to challenge her to a duel for her honor.

She had, admittedly, been spending a lot of time considering how things could go wrong. With the day-to-day humdrum of her life, it was difficult not to focus on anything else.

In fact, the letter seemed strangely apologetic, which made Fleur even more confused. But the most important thing was that her request was being accepted, as was the time and day of the proposed meeting.

“Fancy!” she called out as she climbed out of the bath. “Tell the staff we need the best china. No, on second thought, tell them to buy better china!”

The entire afternoon thereafter was filled with a flurry of activity. Having had to host an impromptu party on many an occasion, it wasn’t entirely chaotic, but the thought of having Princess Luna over added some measure of trepidation to Fleur’s behaviour, which trickled down to the servants.

“Fleur, darling, I think you might be going a little overboard.” Fancy observed as Fleur barked at on of the maids for setting a fork in the wrong location.

Fleur shook her head angrily. “I do not want any risk of Luna becoming upset again.”

“And that’s a fine goal, but did you or did you not imply that if anything did go wrong the servant responsible would have to find new employment—” Fancy began.

“Well, yes—

“In another city,” he finished. “Also, you seem to have caused one of the maids to break down in tears. I sent her to her room to calm down.”

“Ah, sweet Babbette, I was too hard on her,” Fleur replied, wincing. She made note to give that one a raise and an apology later.

“The Princess seemed not to mind our decour when she came by unannounced, I don’t imagine she’ll expect any great change.”

Fleur whipped her head around to regard him with a disgusted look. “Really? Did you or did you not lament that had you known she was coming you would have had other guests?”

“Yes, other guests.” Fancy replied with a raised eyebrow. “There was nothing wrong with how our home looked, merely the ponies therein.”

Fleur took a look around their home, trying to find a flaw in his argument, and not seeing one. “Still... I—”

“You’re making yourself nervous for no reason, Fleur.” Fancy said as he closed the distance between them, folding her up in a tight embrace. “She’s clearly ready to forgive your brashness, or she wouldn’t have accepted your invitation. Now, can you please stop worrying before you drive our staff to mutiny?”

Fleur stiffened in his arms, her eyes narrowing. “Which one of them said that?”

“None of them, yet, and that’s a testament to how much they care for you.” Fancy kissed her on the forehead while she glowered at nopony in particular. “Why don’t we go upstairs to get some rest? This will all seem inconsequential in the morning.”

She opened her mouth to protest, then felt him nuzzle her ear and closed it again.

“Please?” he whispered breathily.

She melted in his embrace. She couldn’t even muster the will to resent his manipulation. It was very well done, after all. “Very well, mon cœur,” she said, allowing herself to be led to their room.

Fleur’s ear twitched.

It was far too early to be awake. She knew this instinctively, as she was the type of pony who could sleep the sleep of the guiltless. There were some who called such sleep the sleep of the innocent, but she knew better. Only recently had she ever had trouble sleeping, and that had been alleviated by Luna’s letter to her. Her head had hit the pillow this evening with a blissful darkness to follow. But something in the darkness of the night had disturbed her sleep enough to wake her.

She knew not what had caused her to stir. It was a vague sense of unease, but she could have sworn she’d heard something.

“Mon cœur?” she asked plaintively to the darkness, sending a tendril of magic into her horn to light up her surroundings.

“Fleur!”

She saw a brief flash of Fancy, struggling against three ponies that were trying to overpower him. He hit one of them with a nearby (and very expensive) vase, making the stallion curse.

For a brief moment, she was paralyzed with fear, uncertain what to do. One of them landed on the bed as Fancy flung him backwards with a burst of magic, and she screamed and flailed at him, trying to knock him away.

He cursed at her, swinging something at her in his magic, and she felt a blunt impact just before passing out.

When she came to, she found herself bound up with what felt like shredded articles of her own clothing, and her assailant was in the process of roughly shoving a piece of cloth into her mouth. She blinked several times, trying to get the world to stop waving up and down, and fruitlessly tried to hit her attacker. He didn’t even seem to notice, as his attention was on Fancy and the two assailants trying to subdue him.

Foalnappers were the worst possible fear of any high-society girl, save only assassins. When confronted with attackers in one’s home, assuming you could not fend them off, it was vitally important to identify which you were dealing with, as even foalnappers had limits to what they would deal with to complete a job, turning one into the other out of sheer necessity.

She kept struggling, even as she heard Fancy grunt in his own fight. If Fancy could fend them off, it wouldn’t matter which they were. That was a worry for later. Her task was to escape from the ropes if she could, and help Fancy in whatever way she could. Gratifyingly, she could feel her bonds slipping, as the fools had apparently thought her silk dress fine material to bind her with.

They weren’t entirely wrong, as silk was nice and stretchy, and would not chafe against her. But she knew something they did not. Namely, that Fleur had been through an experimental phase with a former lover, and he had taught her some very easy ways of undoing such bonds.

He’d been interesting, for a time.

She’d almost managed to free her forelegs when she heard a shout of alarm from one of her assailants, and something heavy hit her against the side of the skull.

She sunk back into the depth of oblivion.

She came to some time later, opening her eyes to see only darkness. The only things she recognised clearly were the warmth of a pony underneath her barrel, and the stench of sweat. Fancy had given them a workout, it seemed. She selfishly hoped he’d knocked some of their teeth loose.

The gait of the pony beneath her was steady and quick, and her ears told her that there were more than one, even if she couldn’t make out how many there were exactly. A lone memory managed to pierce the haze that loomed over her consciousness and she tensed, suddenly wide awake.

Assassins! Foalnappers! Fancy!

She fought off panic as the pony below her moved with purpose to some unknown destination. This was it, the worst had happened.

Actually, not the worst. The worst was death. This was the second worst. But she did not know the fate of her beloved. Clearly he had failed in his attempts to fend them off, but was he alive?

She had no way of knowing. Were it not for the cloth in her mouth, she would have screamed her despair for the world to hear.

Her involuntary journey lasted forever. There was no time, there was no light, there was no Fancy. She began to hope fervently that if he had not survived, that their assailants were planning to kill her as well, for she’d be taking her own life soon enough if he was gone.

In the black void of her world, a spark of defiance lit. Of course he was alive, it screamed. She was alive, taken captive. That meant something very important: the attackers hadn’t been sent to kill her.

If that was true, then she was likely to be ransomed. And the pony she was to be ransomed to was not dead.

If Fancy was not dead, the world could sort itself out.

Eventually, she felt the foalnapper slow, no longer galloping at a breakneck pace. His gait changed to one of somepony in their element, unafraid of pursuit or detection.

When she heard a door slam shut somewhere behind her, she knew that they had to have reached their destination. Then again, it could just have been a place for her captors to rest before they took her to... wherever they were taking her.

The ride became a whole lot more uncomfortable when the pony carrying her descended a set of stairs, jostling and shaking her. The air was knocked out of her when, at the end of the stairs, she was thrown onto the floor.

Her ears perked up in alarm, utter confusion, and joy when, a moment later, a second thud was accompanied by a groan from a very distinctive voice.

When the same pony moans in your ear every night, you come to recognize any sound they make, after all.

She waited for the creaking of the stair’s steps, the hinges of a door that needed oiling, and the soft conversation to fade before spitting out the gag. Even with the sack over her head, she could see dim lighting from a small light fixture above her, and in the light she could make out that it was a pair of her own panties that she’d gagged her with.

“Fancy?” she whispered. He did not respond. “Fancy?!” she asked again, louder. Her heart thumped in her chest.

What if they’ve hurt him? What’s going to happen to us now?

“Fleuf...” She heard a hacking cough, followed by Fancy spitting out a cloth similar to hers. “Fleur... are you alright?”

“I’m...” she tensed against the knots in her bonds, finding that whoever had done them was a much better hoof with restraints. Her headache was such that she would have taken an entire bottle of painkillers to be rid of it, and several places on her body ached and would likely bruise before the day was out. But she found that she was relatively unharmed, if very confused. Fancy was here. Not at home, waiting for a ransom note, but here, with her.

But Fancy was also alive. So long as that did not change, she could bear whatever came next. “I am fine, mon cœur.”

To her side, she heard another grunt from somewhere behind her, and then, a warmth of a stallion’s hooves against her back, Fancy apparently having inched closer as much as his bonds would allow.

He sighed in relief. “Thank Celestia. I thought for sure—”

“Shhhh...” she cut him off, trying to scooch back against him. It would help comfort him, as well as herself. “What do you think they want from us?”

“I haven’t the slightest. One of my wards went off and I had just enough time to get out of bed before they attacked. I saw them hit you, and feared the worst... “

“As I said, I am fine, Fancy. Did they hurt you?”

“No, they didn’t seem keen on injuring me, to be honest. Didn’t seem to know what to do with me, can’t say the same in return, I knew exactly what to do. One of them will need to have his nose seen to, another will want a dental appointment. The one tending to you hit me with a sack of sand, I think. I came to just before they trotted us downstairs,” he paused for a moment, then hesitantly added: “Incidentally, we’re going to need to buy you some new undergarments.”

Fleur’s mouth quirked up in confusion as she heard his words, and a moment later she barked out a hearty laugh. Fancy had been gagged with another pair of her panties. Somehow, here, in the dark, not knowing if she would live or die, that made the experience somewhat more bearable.

They lay together, embraced as much as they could be, for a very long time.

At first, Fleur had tried counting the minutes, but she’d eventually lost count and gotten bored with the whole effort. Their captors would release them when they were ready, and not before. She could find out the time when they were released.

There was still the worry of who was meant to pay their ransom, but Fancy did have lawyers and accountants who would very much want him returned, if for no other reason than they depended on him for their livelihood. Also, they were family friends, and that did count for something. She would have felt more assured if it were Fancy being presented her ransom, as she knew well he would move heaven and earth for her, and she would do the same for him.

But even without that assurance, the fact that he lived allowed her to hope all would go well.

From upstairs, a voice could be heard distantly, followed by one significantly less quiet.

“What is the meaning of this?!” the voice demanded, startling Fleur even more than she’d been when she’d been taken captive.

Fleur could not hear the response, but she was far more concerned with the fact that the voice upstairs could only belong to an enraged alicorn.

"Fool, did you really think We would need the likes of you to dispose of them? Fetch them from wherever you are keeping them. We would have words."

Her face fell as Fleur heard Luna’s words. It seemed all was not forgiven after all. She had so enraged the little princess as to force her to hire professionals to deal with Fleur, and worse, Fancy was sharing in her penance.

“Is that Princess Luna up there?” Fancy asked quietly.

“I believe so.”

“She seems a bit upset,” Fancy observed.

“Have no fear, mon cœur. I will throw myself at her feet and beg her to spare you from any blame.” She clung to him as much as her bonds would allow. “I am so sorry for having caused this. If I survive, I promise you I will have more care for my actions—”

“Fleur, please. That’s not what we need now.” Fancy said in a very serious tone, making her break off her tirade of apologies and promises. “She wishes to talk, and apparently wished to do so outside of our home, and further felt the need to have us fetched in the middle of the night. This is not new, we’ve dealt with angry nobles before.”

“But... but she’s—”

“She’s apparently very angry, and she’s much higher on the social scale, yes. But that doesn’t make this any different in principle. Pull yourself together, keep your cool, and we will get through this together. All right?”

Fleur took a deep, steadying breath, wishing she had access to even the least of her beauty supplies, as she was certain her hair was a fright, and all trace of makeup had been washed away the day before. She was fairly certain her eyes were bloodshot from the weeping she’d done while thinking about Fancy’s possible fate, and she felt wretched as the dreaded guilt clutched at her heart once more. But despite this, she could do as Fancy asked. Let Luna see how she’d been affected, let her know the remorse. She could bear it. “Yes. I can do this. I will be brave, mon cœur.”

“I know you will. Remember, feel out the situation, placate where possible, accept blame where not. We don’t want to make things worse.”

Fleur’s throat closed for a moment in a choked-back sob. Her tears would not help anypony here.

A heavy stomping announced their captors were coming down to tend to them, and Fleur laid there quietly, making no move to help or hinder them as they removed her bonds. The foalnappers wore black masks and dark clothing, so she did not bother trying to identify them. In any case, they had been hired by one of the two highest powers in the land, making prosecution unlikely.

She said nothing, merely allowing herself to be led to a large room furnished with what looked like items rescued from various curbsides. The fabric was ripped, stained, and stuffing emerged from several locations. But it was clean, despite that. The building they were in was likely to be a safehouse of sorts, perhaps an abandoned property.

At the center, in a large beanbag that had been repaired by copious amounts of tape, was Luna, looking less than pleased at her surroundings, to say nothing of her company.

Fleur felt a strange sense of deja vu as she saw the princess. For, despite being in this decrepit building, Luna held herself with poise and grace, her face largely impassive. Her body language, however, told Fleur volumes.

They had been Summoned. Her Royal Majesty was Attending, and they were to be Judged.

She did her best not to visibly show how frightened she was.

Fancy stood by her side, his face a mask of dignity. He projected his calm outwards like a shield, and she inched closer to him in the hope of it protecting her as well.

“Leave Us.” Luna intoned, not even deigning to look at the foalnappers.

“Majesty... there is the small matter of payment...”

She simply looked at him, her eyes the black of the cold unforgiving night sky. "We should banish thee for thy incompetence alone, yet thou adds impertinence to thy crimes. Despite this, We will honor Our arrangement. Go before We change Our mind.”

“I mean only to say that the payment can be settled at another time, of course,” he said very quickly. “I believe I will take my compatriots to another location. Feel free to leave when you wish. We’ll clean up later.” Having said this, he fled the room with a swift but silent retreat. In a moment, the front door of the building quietly opened and closed, and then all was silence.

Luna turned to them once more, gesturing to the other chairs in the room. “Be seated.”

Fancy nodded primly, getting into the chair and awaiting her further instructions. Fleur gave him a longing look, wanting nothing more than to squeeze into the chair with him, but in the end she sat in the other chair placed a few feet away from him.

“My friends, I am sorry.” Luna said.

Fleur simply stared for a long moment, uncertain she’d heard right. Luna’s posture had relaxed very slightly. Her eyes were no longer cold and hard, actually seeming quite saddened.

Somehow, this was worse than the other Luna. That one had been terrible. This one made her heart hurt.

“Are we friends, Luna?” Fancy asked cautiously. “I admit to being a bit confused if that’s the case.”

“I...” Luna hesitated, and again, Fleur had trouble reconciling anything that was happening with any sense of reality. “I wish to be, but I fear what might occur if I allow it, Sir Pants.”

She gestured around the room with a grimace. “As for this... it was an error, and a grave one. I employed the services of ponies who assured me they could fetch you safely and silently to a place outside of either of our influences. I did not realize they would abduct you. I must ask for your forgiveness on this matter as well.”

Fleur could bear no more, and finally blurted out: “Princesse, I forgive you a thousand times. Do not be sad, I am fine! And Fancy is as well!” she turned to him with pleading eyes. “You are fine as well, oui?”

“Yes, I am physically fine,” he replied to her. “A bit troubled, but no worse for the wear.” He turned back to Luna. “But I do wish to understand, Princess. Why would you need to spirit us from our home?”

“I...” Luna looked away, seemingly unable to meet his gaze. “I did not trust myself to accept your kind offer, but at the same time I could not simply continue to let things stand as they were.”

She gesticulated with the hoof, waving it around in agitation. “And I could not summon you to the palace for fear of what rumors that would start. And...” Luna blushed a brilliant purple hue. “And I cannot trust myself even in your dreams.”

Fleur’s ears stood straight up in alarm as Luna said this.

She... she can’t possibly have... that was a dream. That was my dream. Why would she—

Luna cleared her throat noisily, momentarily distracting Fleur from her downward spiral of confusion and shame.

“There are things I must know before we continue in any capacity, friendship... or otherwise.”

“Ma petite…” Fleur said, hesitant to ask what she now suspected. “Some days ago, I... I had a dream—”

“Dame, I am sorry I invaded your dream in such a way. I normally only visit those in need of my aid, but I had a need of my own, and... I had hoped it would be easier to—”

Fleur’s eyes widened. “You were there! I... I was uncertain when I woke, and my waking mind chided me for such nonsense, but you were there! And I...” she trailed off, feeling as if her eyes would exit her head and fall to the ground. “I... we...”

“We can talk of what transpired another time, Dame. Suffice to say I do not take offense.” Luna said, not looking directly at her. “It is definitely not the mutual attraction that worries me.”

Fancy flashed Fleur a look that promised they would be having a talk about the dream as well, but he didn’t seem unduly bothered by the revelation otherwise. “Very well, Luna. We are here, a little scuffed but here nonetheless. Fleur very much wanted to make amends for her forwardness, but you have other concerns?”

Luna nodded, slowly raising her head so that her gaze could meet Fancy’s own. “I... I have concerns, yes. Not... not about being approached in such a way, nor about your being married. If these are things that do not concern you, I am amenable to the idea. But... Fleur called the two of you a ‘mated pair of scoundrels’. This... gives me pause.”

Fancy barked out a laugh suddenly, his expression lightening ever so slightly. “I suppose that’s true enough.”

Luna shook her head. “I don’t know that it is. I’ve seen your works, Sir Pants. You gather funds for charity, commission buildings for schools, lobby for positive social works. These are deeds of true nobility of heart. Yet you claim otherwise.”

“A ‘reformed’ scoundrel is still a scoundrel, majesty.” Fancy replied in an off-hoof manner. “I know myself, and what I am capable of. The fact that I choose to act otherwise does not mean I can deny who I was, or who I could be again.”

Luna’s ears drooped as she heard this. “But surely one can change! With time, and penance—”

“Time and penance do not change the past, majesty, only the present and the future. For all the good you claim I do, I cannot undo what I did to be in the position to do those deeds to begin with. Make no mistake, I am a scoundrel, through and through.”

Luna nodded sadly, and opened her mouth to reply, but Fancy held up a hoof to indicate he had more to say. “That being said, despite my nature, or perhaps because of it... I choose to attempt to make the world a better place in whatever way I can, because the world is full of ponies just like me. Ponies who could, if they wished, follow another path.”

This seemed to give the princess pause, and she nodded thoughtfully before turning back to Fleur. “And you, Dame? I know of your works as well. The jilted lovers, the broken marriages in your wake. Are you a scoundrel?”

Fleur gave a little laugh. “My lovers were all well aware of my proclivities, Princesse. As for the poor fools who left their wives... those marriages were unhappy to begin with.”

“I see.” Luna replied, her eyes saddened. “So you are a scoundrel after all.

Fleur considered her answer carefully before replying. “Princesse... like Fancy, I know what I am, and what I am not. If you had asked me a week ago, ‘Fleur, do you believe you are a good pony?’ I would have said yes, for I do not regret who I am.”

“You are a good pony, Fleur,” Fancy interjected.

She turned to him, giving him a little smile. “I think that is perhaps up for debate. It may be that I owe some of those lovers an apology. Not all, but some. I should have more care for their hearts,” she redirected her attention to Luna. “I have no wish to hurt anypony, but... sometimes hurt is done no matter our wish.”

There was a long, uncomfortable pause, during which none of them seemed willing to speak. The little princess finally broke the silence. “While your approach was... forceful, that was never the cause of my discomfort. I did not wish to be the reason a very happy couple ended their relationship. But further still, I fear that if I were to associate with ponies who had no morals, that I might...” she trailed off, looking troubled. “But I do not believe either of you. I think you are good ponies, and I would be happy to call you friends, if... if you will forgive me.”

“Hmmm?” Fancy replied, looking confused. “Oh! You mean for the abduction! Yes, well, not the first time it’s happened, actually. Occupational hazard and whatnot. Frankly, I’d like some contact details for the ponies you hired; they’re the first to get past my wards! It’s also helpful to know chaps who can get in and out of a place without making a fuss.”

Luna let out a very surprised and hearty laugh. “I will fetch their card for you.”

Her expression became more neutral as she turned back to Fleur. “And you, Dame? Would you have anything of me?”

Fleur had many, many answers to that question flash through her mind, each more lurid than the last. But she would not risk actually saying any of them, not so soon. She was thrilled to even be forgiven, to be given another chance to befriend this bewitching creature who had captured her attention. Instead, she simply flashed Luna a little grin, saying: “Just promise me our next visit will be in a more comfortable location, ma petite.”